


Let's Go to Sleep, My Noble Blade

by ViterWrites



Category: Discord Murder Party (Podcast), Fire Emblem: Soen no Kiseki/Akatsuki no Megami | Fire Emblem Path of Radiance/Radiant Dawn
Genre: Gen, and sothe happened to be one of the best characters for it, based off of chapter 2 of Radiant Dawn, i have wanted to write something both for dmp and canon fe for a while, it was supposed to be a warm-up but uh, it wss supposed to be a warm-up but uh, yeah - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-09
Updated: 2019-12-09
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:01:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21733417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ViterWrites/pseuds/ViterWrites
Summary: He led. He ran. He fought. And bravely at that. But he failed. Would there be anyone to correct his wrongs and do what he could not?
Relationships: Micaiah & Sothe (Fire Emblem)





	Let's Go to Sleep, My Noble Blade

As unwilling as he was to leave her side, he knew there was no choice. To ensure the safety of the group, to clear the way, to give them an opportunity to escape, he had to leave them, if only for a few hours. And yet, something felt off, this feeling in his gut that didn’t leave him even as he said goodbye. It’s said people feel when they bid someone adieu never to see them again. But she seemed so calm, so confident, entirely sure they would reunite beyond the walls of the city. She looked that, at least. And he had no reason to doubt her. She’d always been right. Why wouldn’t she have been that time?  
He scurried ahead, targeting the lookouts, slaying them in one blow: no pain, no reaction, a carefully measured strike; a sharp inhale and it was all over. He did not take pride in the crimes he had committed, in the lives he had taken. He did not feel sympathy for his victims either. Those soldiers were his enemy and desperate times require desperate actions. Silent, he only did what he knew best. Survived, at the cost of many lives taken by the accursed dagger. He did not think about what he would do if someone got him cornered. Such thoughts only made him more anxious and there was no place for doubt in danger. Focused on making sure the others get through, he did not look back, only to the front, up until an arrow shot from behind scraped his ear. His foes knew who they dealt with well. And they’ve brought in numbers.  
He fought. The blade swung around wildly, while his body moved almost on its own, avoiding as many hits as it was only possible. To the townsfolk who were watching the bloodbath from the windows it was almost entrancing. He seemed a performer and his act was worthy of unending applause, if not for the blood and gore spattered around him. Few people dared to even come to the window upon hearing these sounds and fewer stayed after seeing the scene unfold. But those who did, had it engrained deep into their memory.  
Ten, twenty, thirty soldiers and mercenaries fell to their feet, groaning and screaming in pain, but there were only more; the occupants spared no expense to end his venture once and for all. And as valiant as he was, he could not hold off an entire battalion, let alone an army his enemies were ready to unleash upon him. By then, he knew he would not get out alive. He only prayed for this sacrifice to be enough to shield them. A dozen more slain - he was disarmed. Another four out - he was tied up. But even then he did not stop trying, struggling up until his muscles stopped obeying him. And when that happened. they dragged him.  
Not to the prison, no, that would be far too merciful for them. They took him to the tallest building in the city, from where he could see all and all could see him. He knew this place all to well. All townsfolk did. It was where his life was to end. Where he was to be hanged for everyone to see. To frighten them and suppress any idea of a rebellion. He knew they’d do their best to break him, to make him as miserable as they could before laying him to rest. He knew it could not be allowed to happen. He would die a martyr. One who would inspire and unite the folk of Nevassa, looking at him so terrified from the dusty streets below. But all his resolve faded, once the general, wide grin on the face, pulled his hair back and turned his head to the north.   
He saw them. Her. Running for their freedom, pursued by many dozens. The picture almost made him sigh with relief - he knew they were very close to leaving. But then he looked further. The gate was locked. And another ten awaited beside it, armed to the teeth. He glanced around frantically, in search for someone - anyone - who could offer them aid. There was no one. It was supposed to be him. He failed. And now he and they would have to pay for it.   
He watched the fighter and the myrmidon be deeply wounded and fall, bleeding out on the ground. The archer was next and the maiden was soon to follow. But as the blade was about to reach her silver locks, he threw his head back and screamed. And in that moment, he saw Them. The five Black Stars, hanging from the sky. He called out to them, in fear and desperation, in his last attempt to fix his mistakes. He called out to Me.  
\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
“You called for me and I have come. And aren’t you in a pickle? Once she is gone, you will follow and there is nothing I can do to change that.”  
“Then why did you even come?! I begged someone for aid, for something to be done, if not for me, for them! And if you aren’t here to do that, then perhaps you shouldn’t have enticed me!”  
“Now, now, don’t get me wrong. There’s little I can do for you, it is true, but, as you draw your last breath, I could save them. They could leave Nevassa and do their best to survive afterwards and maybe even. who knows. become Daein’s liberators. I’ve come to grant your last Wish, whatever it may be.”  
“Protect them. Guide them, away from this damned city and keep the danger at bay. Do what I could not. Please…”  
“And I could do that. But I will need your name, as payment and punishment. Will you give it to me?”  
“Why- it’s Sothe. Whatever this entails, it doesn’t matter. Not like a name of an orphan means anything.”  
“Hihihi, isn’t that right? It is settled, then. I will grant your wish, Sothe, they will find sanctuary and maybe even solace. They have many great deeds ahead of them. As for you… let’s go to sleep, my noble Blade. You need rest after everything you’ve managed to achieve.”  
\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
He disappeared without a trace. And as the panicked soldiers rushed down into the city to search every last corner of it for him, the future liberators, including Her, fled Nevassa to find a place to stay. They looked everywhere for him, but as much as they hoped to find him somewhere, dead or alive, it wasn’t to happen. Wishes don’t come without consequences, after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally, I planned to write this AU for the Officers' Academy RP, but upon realising it had to be one post (could not be made into a thread), I settled on it becoming a crossover fic. Sothe, in my opinion, would be a character to sacrifice everything for what he believed in, even though all he can really give up is his life. To make it more clear, he understood the Wish wouldn't be inconsequential and the fact that MG asked for his name only confirmed it. There, once again, was no other choice: it was his and their only hope. And so he agreed to the deal. This was a lot of fun to explore, though my apologies if my interpretation of MG doesn't match up with who she is in canon. Thank you for reading this!


End file.
